Without My Other Half
by confused-Luna
Summary: What's it like being the other twin left behind, lost and trying to live life as if no war happened?


Without My Other Half

**A/N This story has a bit more of a serious tone, but for those that love the terrible twins, it will make a good read. One shot.**

Opening up the shop feels a little strange these days. To start off with, there's no war raging about us anymore. It's not the same running a store built upon rebellion when there is nothing to rebel against left. Sure, not having a war kind of makes for an all-around better living environment, don't get me wrong, it's just a bit odd. Fred and I lived to infuriate others, whether it be our professors, parents or Voldemort and his psychotically-deranged followers. Now it's as if there is no one left to infuriate besides Filch back at Hogwarts. But I really hate that old man, so it seems to be working out.

Now that brings me to my second point. Kind of a big point, if you ask me. Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes isn't the same without the other Weasley. Also known as my second half. Also known as Fred.

The store could be jammed pack full of mischievous Hogwarts students, disapproving parents, and ladies eager to meet a war hero, yet I still feel alone. So, completely alone and empty inside.

Watching first years panic as someone eats a Canary Cream isn't as funny without Fred beside me, laughing until his face turns as red as our hair.

But it's okay, I'm getting by.

It's not like I wake up in the dead of night in a cold sweat, screaming, re-living the moment he died every single bloody night.

It's not like I've avoided every old friend of ours since the day after it happened.

It's not like I have a hard time finishing my trains of thought without him around to complete all of my sentences for me.

And it's certainly not like I still sit on his bed and stare at the wall, wondering how the time we had together went so quickly.

In truth, I would give my other ear for him to come back. I would offer both my ears… but I sort of lost one already. I would sell the shop and give up every bloody thing I have if he could just come back.

I can't bear to introduce myself to anyone now. The only introduction that runs through my head is, "Hi, I'm George, and I would introduce Fred, but he's dead."

Sure, my mum's taken it quite hard. This Christmas when she went to knit us all sweaters, she became hysterical, crying about how she had one less sweater to make. She looks through scrapbooks constantly, lingering on pictures of me and Fred and getting teary eyed each time. No mum ever wants to see her own child go before her.

But it's okay, she's getting by.

Of course my dad has been feeling the loss. When we have family dinners, he has this habit of talking about all the trouble Fred used to cause. Halfway into each story, he begins to stare off into space, lost in thought and ignorant of the conversations swirling around him.

But it's okay, he's getting by.

Everyone seems to feel the loss. My parents, my siblings, my best mates, even mere acquaintances. Yet no one can understand how hurt I am, losing my other half. The only person close to understanding me is Harry. Harry, my favorite scar headed mate, is the boy that just won't stop giving. When I think he has done every single thing he could possibly do for me, my family, and the wizarding world, he has another trick up his sleeve. Out of anyone I know, he is the only one that has suffered more losses than I could ever count or bear. First and foremost, he lost his parents before he was old enough to walk. Then, when he finally found someone that truly loved him and had an important role in his life, also known as his godfather Sirius, he lost him. Even after, he lost the one wizard that he truly looked up to, Dumbledore. Lastly, he lost Lupin, the last of his dad's best mates. Out of any living human being that could understand my heartache, it would be Harry Potter.

He has a habit of coming over to visit me at work once a week. He rarely has anything in mind that he wants to look at, and he usually doesn't talk a whole bunch. Harry just sits with me and watches the crowd filter in and out, occasionally pointing out some ridiculous prank taking place in the store to make me grin a bit. Out of anything anyone has done for me, he has been my greatest source of comfort. Why? Because no words can take away the pain of losing someone. No amount of hugs can squeeze out the heartache. No amount of reminiscing will ever bring a person back to life. Harry understands that concept better than anyone else. So we sit and watch the world continue to move on, even after our loved one's death.

I've had some good days where I hardly notice Fred is gone. I've had some average days where I notice, but I continue on. Out of anything, it's the bad days that really get you. The days where I try to search the Ministry for the Veil I once heard of from Harry when Sirius died, hoping to talk to Fred through it. I've tried countless spells, hoping to somehow summon him back. I've searched every storybook, spell book and history book in search of something to conjure his soul back. At times, I have driven myself mad, wishing the deathly hallow stone still work and could bring him back to me, if only for a moment. Did I know all of that was crazy? Yes. But I still searched, because it is the bad days that make you feel that life is not important without your other half.

On those bad days, I reflect on the war, and continuously run Fred's death through my mind. What if I had found a way to warn him? I could have disarmed the person that killed him before they got him. I could have taken the blow myself.

In the end, looking back and asking "What If?" a million different times will do nothing. Hindsight is 20/20, and no amount of looking back will change the present.

Today started off as one of my bad days. I spent a few hours of my day lying in Fred's bed, starring at the ceiling. At one point though, I think I dozed off and had a dream. Not a nightmare of Fred dying again to my relief, but a dream of the two of us. We were back at Hogwarts, sometime around our 4th year, adventuring the halls at night, trying to cause trouble. The dream was nothing exciting or overly memorable. Just me and my brother being together. Quite honestly, it's the best dream I've had for a while.

It's been hard, but I feel like I'm learning to take it a step at a time. Starting over my life from scratch as half a person versus a whole can be challenging.

But it's okay, I'm getting by.

**Hope you guys liked it. Just a bit of honest emotion here.**


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